


Can't Do It Alone (But I Can Show You Where It Hurts)

by vexbatch



Category: Marvel
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, M/M, POV Bucky Barnes, Post-Coital Cuddling, Rimming, Sub Bucky Barnes, Subspace, Wing AU, Wing Grooming, Wing Kink, and maybe fucked a little, d/s dynamics, grumpy bucky, sometimes you just need to be cherished, tower fic, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:27:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27166573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vexbatch/pseuds/vexbatch
Summary: Bucky's metal replacement feathers are good, but still cause problems...One of them is stuck, and Bucky is reluctant to ask for help.Kisses Bingo: Nose KissMCU Kink Bingo: Wing Kink
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 7
Kudos: 70
Collections: Kisses Bingo, MCU Kink Bingo Round 5





	Can't Do It Alone (But I Can Show You Where It Hurts)

**Author's Note:**

> So the idea for this partially came from [this cute little ficlet](https://hawksonfire.tumblr.com/post/617568212114194432/wingfic-au-with-winterhawk) and partly from the lovely [hawksonfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawksonfire/pseuds/hawksonfire) and [squadrickchestopher.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/squadrickchestopher) Thank you guys for the inspiration for grumpy Bucky getting his wings groomed :)
> 
> Thanks to the lovely [rudearrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudearrow/pseuds/rudearrow) for beta-ing!

Bucky never questioned that Clint had been his savior. From the moment all those years ago when Clint had found him shackled to the wall and freed him without hesitation, Bucky knew. There had been about a month of healing after that, doctors discovering that the underlying skin was too damaged to regrow his own feathers. Stark had spent a good few weeks developing a light-weight alloy design for replacing the feathers, creating something that his body wouldn’t reject. The result was stunning; a set of jet black metallic feathers that allowed him to soar, fitting seamlessly with his remaining natural feathers.

Well. Nearly seamlessly.

They were still  _ metal _ , so they needed even more maintenance than his normal feathers, and sometimes got stuck in odd positions. It wasn't really painful anymore, but it  _ itched _ and was  _ uncomfortable _ and in precisely the  _ wrong _ position for Bucky to deal with himself. 

It had been two years since the implants; 9 months since Bucky had convinced Clint that them dating would actually be a  _ great _ idea, thank you very much; 7 months since Tony had started complaining about them making out on every available piece of furniture; and 5 months since Natasha had snapped at them to just  _ move in together already, we all live in the Tower anyway _ . 

So Clint had moved into Bucky’s apartment and it was great. And wonderful. And perfect.

But Bucky was just….so irritated today. 

He loved Clint being in his space, loved being in Clint’s space, but he’d never been particularly good at asking for what he needed. Sometime the day before, one of his artificial feathers had gotten snagged, poking out at an odd angle that he couldn't reach. Clint had just gotten back from a rough mission that morning, so Bucky had just ignored it in favor of spending time with Clint. 

He paid it no mind while they watched Dog Cops, at family dinner with the team, when they were cuddling in the hammock on the balcony, and when they'd eventually made it to bed. Clint left at 0800 for a SHIELD debrief the next morning, leaving Bucky alone with that  _ stupid fucking feather _ and a lot less to take his mind off it. 

Bucky had mostly spent the morning picking up and setting down books; two that he was in the middle of and three more that had caught his eye but hadn’t had the time to properly start yet. By the time the team had been released at one, Bucky had also ordered thai, started and stopped four different shows, and was now on their balcony staring out at the city. 

He could hear the apartment door opening, Clint setting something down on the counter, groaning in joy, then a stretch of quiet before he made his way out onto the balcony behind Bucky. Clint nudged him with a shoulder before taking a sip from his mug, presumably filled with coffee. Normally, Bucky would glance over and be taken by Clint’s bright eyes, his wry mouth, the way the lines on his face smoothed away when he was looking out at their city…

But he was too on edge for any of that. Bucky huffed out a breath, leaning forward on his arms in an attempt to stretch his back out. As though that would help. Clint made a soft noise and gently placed a hand on Bucky’s wing. Normally, Clint’s touch to any part of his wings would send his blood rushing south, but today Bucky flinched away, dislodging Clint’s hand.

“Hun? You okay?” Clint’s voice was filled with too much tenderness, too much concern, so Bucky just turned his head to face the other way.

“‘M fine,” he replied, glowering out at lower Manhattan. He  _ wasn’t _ fine and he knew it wasn’t fair to take his bad mood out on Clint like this, but Bucky couldn’t seem to help himself.

The hand came back, this time settling between his wings. “Mmmm, nope, you’re not, and you’re  _ also _ stealing my line. Is there something going on with your wing?”

Bucky sighed, hanging his head. “It’s fine. You just got off a mission, we should just relax and-”

“I’m not going to be able to relax if you’re all twitchy and in pain, goof.” The hand wandered closer to the base of Bucky’s wing. “Are you gonna let me fix it, or are you just gonna be a grumpy goose all day?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but straightened up. “Fine,” he huffed out, “It’s just… I think there’s a feather out of place on my left wing.”

“Is that all? C’mere.” Clint gently tugged on Bucky’s shoulders until they were back to front, giving Clint better access. Bucky shivered as Clint's hands worked through his feathers, gently brushing them in a movement that at once felt foreign and intimate. Bucky didn't usually let people touch his wings, flinching away as memories of what HYDRA had done resurfaced. 

That was pushed to the side now. Between staying up late worrying and being left alone all day until he was ready to explode, Bucky was more on edge than ever. But instead of exploding, Bucky could feel himself melting into Clint's touches.

After a moment, Clint found the offending feather and righted it, causing Bucky to release a breath and the rest of the tension in his body. Clint stumbled at Bucky's sudden slump, laughing as he held Bucky upright. "Come on, let's get you on the bed, huh?"

Bucky shook his head, gripping the railing as he found his feet again. "Sorry, sorry. I've just been," he passed a hand over his face, trying to find the words to explain the past few days. "I don't know. On edge? Haven't felt normal in days…"

"It's okay, hun." Clint settled a hand low on Bucky's back and guided him back inside. "Let me finish getting your wing sorted out, and you can tell me about it?”

Bucky nodded jerkily in response as they moved back through the apartment. There was the familiar unpleasant twist of anticipation in his gut. His thoughts whirled, trying to pinpoint what exactly had started the feeling building in his chest- a feeling that usually led to Bucky sequestering himself in their rooms, avoiding everyone and snapping at Clint.

Distracted, Bucky stumbled as his knees hit the mattress. He would have fallen except for Clint’s hand, still fisted in the back of his shirt. Clint’s laughter softened the jerk back to reality, and Bucky let himself smile a little at how, no matter how out of it Bucky was, Clint was always there for him, supporting him.

“Can we get your shirt off?” Clint’s voice was gentle. Bucky had just started to nod when Clint’s hands carefully lifted his shirt off. Bucky crawled forwards on the bed, letting himself flop down onto his stomach as soon as his feet were no longer hanging off the end. Clint chuckled again. "You’re really out of it, huh?”

Bucky mumbled something nonsensical in reply as the bed dipped and Clint murmured, “That’s okay, I’ll take care of you.”

Bucky drifted for a long time after that, exhausted from being on edge for so long, glad to sink into their bed. Clint carefully stretched Bucky’s wings out, running those skilled hands over each feather; soothing the one that had been out of place and running an occasional hand down his back. Bucky could charitably be described as a puddle by the time both wings were completely stretched out, every feather tended to, and every muscle prodded into a more relaxed state. 

He could feel Clint’s face close to his own, so Bucky cracked one eye open to see his grinning archer. “Hhhmm, mmm, yes?” 

Clint chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to Bucky’s cheek. “Just checking in on you, love. You dropped off there pretty hard- you okay?”

It took a long moment for Bucky’s cajole his thoughts into some kind of order. That, more than anything, told Bucky just how badly he needed something external to remove some of this tension. 

“I’m- I’m okay,” he managed eventually, blinking blearily. “If...If you were up for it, I might ask you -to put me in subspace properly? I know I’m, I’m partially down already, but-”

Clint shushed him, leaning in to steal a soft kiss. “Yeah honey, I can do that. Only things on the green list, nothing new. Are you clear enough for check-ins?”

At that question, Bucky forced himself into something more like proper consciousness. That question needed the clearest, most honest answer he could give at any given time. “Yeah. Yes. I can stoplight, but it might take me a minute to give you words.”

Clint leaned in to kiss his nose gently. “How about I hold your hand the whole time, and you squeeze twice if we need to stop?”

Bucky blinked blearily. Apparently he was already further under than he’d thought. “Yeah, yeah that sounds like a good plan. Right hand?”

“Right hand,” Cint confirmed, then captured Bucky’s mouth again. This kiss was dirtier, full of a heated passion that Bucky abruptly realized was because  _ Clint _ had been getting worked up as he’d been turning Bucky to putty. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the brain power to do anything  _ about  _ that realization, so he sank back down into happy bliss as Clint kissed him silly.

After approximately three eternities, Clint moved away and Bucky could hear a small whine, distantly aware that it was coming from himself. Clint’s chuckle wrapped around him and, after a moment, he felt a warm hand in his.

_ Right, for signalling. _

Bucky squeezed once to let Clint know that he hadn’t forgotten and then continued drifting. 

Clint was slowly working Bucky’s sweatpants down and nudging Bucky’s knees up under him, intermingling every tug with a kiss on the newly exposed flesh. Every movement and touch had Bucky feeling so... _ cared _ for. Lost in that feeling, he startled a little when the pants were removed and Clint nibbled at his bare ass.

Clint paused when Bucky jumped, a soft hand coming up to soothe the skin he’d just bitten. “Color?”

It took Bucky longer than he liked to marshal his thoughts, but Clint was patient, rubbing gentle circles into his skin, giving Bucky time to answer.

“Yeah, g-good,” he fumbled, trying to find words again. “Green, so greeeeeennnn....” Bucky trailed off into a moan as Clint’s hand wandered, shifting Bucky’s ass to lick a stripe over his hole. Clint began licking in earnest, going over his entrance with every stripe but not quite penetrating, and Bucky keened.

Clint kept at it for a maddeningly long time, until all Bucky could do was gasp, rocking a little with every movement, pleasure sparking as his dick rubbed against his legs. But he wasn’t looking to come. All he  _ really _ wanted in that moment was to be good for Clint, to be claimed, taken care of, and drowned in pleasure.

Somewhere in there Bucky must have started babbling, because the wonderful sensations stopped and Clint was laughing again. “You  _ are _ good for me, Bucky,” Clint drawled, “so good. I’m going to play with your wings while I eat you out, okay?”

Bucky nodded into the pillow, but Clint just squeezed his hand once and murmured, “Words please, sweetheart.”

He closed his eyes again, swallowing until his mouth felt a little less like it was stuffed with cotton. “G-green, please, green.” 

Clint’s hand drifted over his down feathers, scattered at the point where Bucky’s wings flowed out of his back. A shiver ran up Bucky’s spine and Clint chose  _ that _ moment to dive in, tongue finally pushing past the ring of muscle and into Bucky.

Bucky let out a gasping moan, eyes fluttering as the sensations washed over him. Clint fucked into him with that skilled tongue over and over and  _ over _ while his fingers drifted over the recently-righted feathers, brushing them each in turn. Tears began to prickle at Bucky’s eyes, the emotion of being cared for mixing with the slowly,  _ slowly _ building orgasm until all he could do was lay there, take it, and cry.

It was so beautiful.

Eventually, long enough that Bucky didn’t know how Clint’s tongue was still attached to his mouth, Clint ran his hand back down Bucky’s spine. He withdrew from inside Bucky, who couldn’t help but whine at the loss. “Do you want to come?” Clint chuckled at Bucky’s unintelligible response. “One squeeze for yes, two for no.”

Very carefully, Bucky squeezed once, skin alight with buzzing anticipation. Clint’s hand shifted, no longer following his spine, now tracing Bucky’s hip around until he could grasp his leaking cock.

Gasping and whining at the lightest touches, Bucky realized just how hard he'd become. Clint chuckled again from where he was resting against Bucky's back. "You're so eager for me, hun, I love it. Love that you don't hide it from me at all. You're so good-"

But that was all Bucky could make out before his own groan drowned out the sweet words. The praise was undoing whatever semblance of a brain he still had. Everything was building, but Bucky was floating, and the only feeling tethering him to this reality was the heavy need of his throbbing cock. The praise, coupled with a sudden twist of Clint's hand on his dick, had him gone- completely and utterly, all the way in outer space.

After seconds or years or somewhere in between, he felt the release building for a final time, hardly noticing the whining pants escaping his mouth.

Finally, his focus sharpened right as Clint murmured, "Yes honey, come for me, just like that," and Bucky was gone.

It was several weighty minutes before Bucky became aware that he was inhabiting a body again. He was somehow laying on his side and Clint was cleaning him up with a warm washcloth. Bucky tried to move to grab Clint's head, wanting to steal a kiss, but his fingers just twitched. He let out a strangled, indignant noise at his incapability of movement. That's what attracted Clint's too-bright eyes to his own again.

"Hey honey, you back with me?" Clint's voice was soft and kind, but Bucky could see the hint of laughter hidden in his eyes.

“Hhhnnnngg,” was all Bucky got out and, based on Clint’s laughter, his glare was less than effective. Though it had the pleasant side-effect of getting Clint to lean down and kiss him, which… was the point initially? Thinking was- difficult.

Fortunately, kissing was easy.

The kiss was soft and brief before Clint was pulling away again. “Be right back."

Bucky grumbled again, but as Clint climbed off the bed and walked away, he flexed his arm experimentally. It behaved this time, curling up into a fist. He was conscious enough to be able to move his own body, so he counted that as a win.. 

Clint would probably make him an award, First Medal Recipient for Moving Their Own Body, if Bucky could string enough words together to share the thought. By the time Clint returned, Bucky had managed to tuck himself under the blanket and was pleasantly drifting. He had half a mind to stay awake until he could get cuddles, and made a pleased noise when he caught sight of Clint nearing..

"All comfy?" Clint lifted the blanket to wiggle in as Bucky nodded. He soon found himself wrapped around his gorgeous boyfriend; happy, warm, and content.

"Love you," Bucky mumbled, pressing his face back into Clint's shoulder.

Clint hummed happily, his hand rising to stroke Bucky's head as he whispered, "I love you too, Bucky."


End file.
